Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Thunder God

As a commercial pilot, I've encountered some peculiar happenings that aren’t likely to be experienced by the ground bound. For instance, being caught in stormy weather in an open cockpit.

Once I was flying cross country en route form my maintenance base in Oklahoma to my home base in East Texas. I was caught in a tremendous line of heavy thunder storms. My Stearman was not equipped for flying by instruments. I was strictly VFR (visual flight rules) with only a magnet compass, and that very untrustworthy. I was navigating by landmarks, having flown the route a number of times before.

As the sky darkened I was forced to fly quite low to stay clear of lowering stormy looking clouds. It began to rain and lightning began to flash. Thunder claps were loud enough that I could hear them over the roar of my Pratt Whitney engine. The rain became heavy to the point that my forward visibility was limited to about a half mile or less. I was a bit worried and was reminded of a poem I had written some years back.

THE THUNDER GOD

The thunder god rears his awesome headAnd rumbles his warning dark and dread.No prudent airman dares to tread Too near this angered giant.

On convective energy he mounts the sky‘Till his anvil head is five miles highWith an electric flickering in his evil eye He mutters and rumbles and threatens - Defiant.

His approach is announced by ominous soundWith throaty booms that shiver the ground.Menacingly he gathers his storm all ‘roundAnd the air grows sultry and still.

Scowling and growling, his fury grows.The heavens darken and creation knowsWith malevolent intent he glowers at thoseWho would dare to resist his will.

There he sits astride my path,A meteorological tower of rage and wrathNature’s cumulo-psychopath,Maddened because I’ve invaded his sacred sky

I’m cautious and careful and it has served me wellSo I change course and it seems I can tellAs I circumnavigate this flickering hellOf all men, he hates most those that can fly.

So I am threading my way underneath these angry giants, hunkered down behind the small windshield, hoping to stay dry. It’s a losing battle though - soon I’m sopping wet. The giants are hurling thunderbolts at me but so far they have missed.

The rain gets heavier with small hail mixed in. If the hail gets larger, I will be forced to land some place like a pasture or a country road. After about an hour I can see my home town and then my home base runway. I put the wheels down ever so gently. Actually I am water skiing until the ship slows down and the tires touch the ground. Sheets of water are sent out each side. I slow down and turn off the runway and taxi into the hanger. My boots are full of water and I am soaked to the bone.

My brother, also a pilot, is in the hanger to greet me. I climb out and he gives me a look of disgust and says, "Brother Dale, I would have thought you had better sense than to be flying in weather like this."

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Dale in 1979

About Dale

Having spent a good portion of my life driving aircraft of one sort and another, and at the urging of my progeny, I begin this blog. This is an attempt to record some of my more interesting little episodes just for grins and entertainment, most of which were caused by pilot error, pilot ignorance, pilot stupidity, pilot exhibitionism, and pilot in-over-his-head-isms.

I began my flying in the middle of the twentieth century when general aviation was trying to recover from the war years and trying to convince itself that aviation had a future. Piper, Cessna, Taylorcraft, Stinson, and a few other small aircraft manufacturer were struggling to stay afloat by offering some small, bare-bones, two-place, low- horsepower type flying machines at an affordable price.

There were quite a number of ex-military pilots around, but many of these types had flown in what was thought of as "Big Iron" aircraft and weren't much interested in the general aviation Piper Cub-type puddle jumpers, so they hung up their goggles and quit flying altogether.

Then there were those who were too young to participate in WWII, but were inspired by those brave men to learn to fly themselves. That groups includes me, and these are some of my "adventures."

One of my Tail Draggers

An Ag-Cat with a 600 hp R1340 PW engine on the front

What's A Tail-Dragger?

I have received several inquiries wanting to know what a tail-dragger is and why is it called that, so a brief explanation is in order.

Most airplanes nowadays, but not all, have what is referred to as tricycle landing gear. They have a wheel up front under the nose of the ship and two main landing gear a little further back. This arrangement makes it much much easier to steer on the ground.

Typically the earlier airplanes had the two main landing gear up near the front of the plane and a small wheel at the tail end. This is generally referred to as a conventional landing gear. This arrangement gives the appearance that the tail is actually dragging on the ground.

The term "tail-dragger" is a pilot's slangy term used to distinguish between the two types of landing gear. Because the center of gravity on the conventional-geared aircraft is behind the main gear, it is much less stable around the vertical axis and requires careful attention while on the ground.